


Bittersweet

by Singing_Cheshire



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Because Connor doesn't deserve to die alone, F/M, HAPPY CONNOR MAKES ME HAPPY, He deserves happiness, Set after the events of Assassin's Creed 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-17
Updated: 2016-02-17
Packaged: 2018-05-21 06:19:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6041401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singing_Cheshire/pseuds/Singing_Cheshire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor has many regrets. Misses many people. Bad things have happened. But, right now, at this moment, he is happy. Though there are more bad memories than good, he's going to make more good ones. </p><p>Life is bittersweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any and all typos I missed while proofreading. I'm very tired.

There is an eerie quiet falling over the homestead tonight. The nights are usually so much more serene than this. Connor feels uneasy with the lack of his wife's soft snoring beside him. It's uncomfortable being in the manor. It feels empty.

Restless, Connor grabs a lantern and goes outside, hoping a walk will clear his mind. It had only been an hour since his wife had taken their two year old son, and newborn son, and left. It all started when she had noticed that the candelabra behind the staircase had an odd hinge. She had pulled it and discovered the hidden room full of weapons. She came back upstairs and screamed at him, immediately packing both her's and their children's bags. He tried to stop her, but she didn't listen. She only left.

Connor had worked so hard to keep his Assassin life a secret, but he had failed. He hangs his head as he walks, still in shock. He can't believe she hadn't even listened to him. She just left. He's sad, but he's also incredibly angry.

Three months after he had finally killed Charles Lee, he met her. They married a year after that and had their first son. She's always been a bit stuck-up, but Connor never expected she would do anything like _this._

His heart is broken.

~~o~~

The next day, Maria is the one to discover what's happened. Everyone on the homestead brings Connor gifts, and he's forced to reluctantly accept them. He's sitting at the table, reading quietly as he thinks about how nice it would be for his son to steal the book from his hands and race around the house, shrieking with laughter.

He sighs when there's a knock on the door, getting to his feet and opening it. Ellen stands there, holding a basket of various kinds of bread and chocolate, along with a large wrapped gift. She gives Connor a sympathetic smile. "May I come in?"

Connor nods and opens the door fully so that she can step inside. She sets the basket on the table and turns to him. "I'm very sorry about what's happened, Connor," she says softly. "You must be having a hard time."

"It will take a while to believe it really happened," he admits. He pauses, then adds, "I already feel...lonely."

"Connor, never feel lonely. We're all right around the corner. _She_ may not be here, but we are. We'll always be here for you. Whenever you need a shoulder to lean on, we're always ready to help you. The manor may feel lonely, but _you_ shouldn't."

Connor can only manage a tiny, half-hearted smile, though the words do make him feel very, very grateful to have the homestead. "Thank you, Ellen."

She smiles. "Of course. Now, I must be getting along. I've got dresses to finish. And I hope to be seeing you around today," she adds. They say goodbye and she leaves.

Connor watches her for a minute, then closes the door. Although he can't quite explain it, she had spoken with a certain passion when she told him to never feel lonely.

It makes him wonder.

~~o~~

It's been a month since Connor's wife left him. He's out right now, running errands and looking through fruit when he sees her. She's not far away, holding their children and speaking to a different man. His stomach twists when she leans forward and kisses that man.

A month and she's _already_ moved on? He shakes his head in disgust.

~~o~~

Connor doesn't point out the way Ellen seems to make it a priority to come and bring him some form of a gift every morning. The two of them grow closer and, even though the pain in his heart is still very much there, he is always oddly comforted by her presence.

He finds himself frowning when she doesn't show up one morning. He waits a while, and by the time it's midday, there's a knock on the door. He opens it, but instead of Ellen, Maria is there, looking frantic.

"Connor!" She exclaims. "Mother was going out to buy more silk, but she promised she'd be back an hour ago and she still hasn't arrived!"

Connor sets out with Maria tagging along nervously. The search goes on for a while, then Maria cries out, "There!" She sounds very horrified as she announces, "With my father!"

Ellen is cornered against a wall, and when Quincent lands a punch, she hits him back, causing him to grab her by the collar of her shirt and shake her violently. Connor races over, but as soon as the man sees him, he takes off.

"Are you okay?" Connor asks, concerned about the bruises blossoming across her face. She nods and he asks, "What happened?"

"The idiot stole my bolt of silk. It took me a while to figure out how to get it back. When I finally did manage to, he turned around and caught me. You showed up right in time."

~~o~~

A year has passed. Connor sits on a fallen tree and watches the people around the homestead, the snow gently falling. Ellen comes and sits next to him. "How are you?" She asks.

"I am doing better than I was a year ago." He sighs. "I am still not fully recovered, yet."

"I see," she sounds strangely disappointed. "I think this is an inappropriate time to talk about this, then. So I'll just be off." She stands up, but Connor stops her.

"Talk about what?"

She sits back down. "I...don't know if I'm ready to admit this, though."

"Tell me," Connor insists. "You know you can trust me."

"It's not about trust, though. It's...something different."

"You can still tell me."

Ellen breathes deeply, her breath shaky. "I've only now got the courage to say this, after all these years, but..." She hesitates. "I've...Connor, I've fallen for you."

He stares. "You...have?"

"Yes! It's..." She sighs. "I can't. I'm sorry, Connor, I shouldn't have bothered you with this only a year after your wife left you. I...I should go."

She gets up again, but Connor grabs her hand. "No. I think that...over this past year, I have fallen for you, too."

Ellen's eyes widen. "You...really?"

"Really."

She sits back down slowly. They stare at each other for a second.

Then their lips meet.

~~o~~

Spending more time with Ellen means Connor gets to see Maria more. She's a silly girl, and he doesn't mind her weird hobbies. Today Connor is sitting next to Achilles' grave while he reads, when Maria comes and sits next to him.

"Hey," she starts, "are you in love with Mother?"

Connor looks up from his book immediately. He hadn't said anything to anyone and neither had Ellen. "What would make you think that?"

Maria grins. "You're always with her. Sometimes, I see you guys kissing, but I don't say anything."

Connor sighs. "Do not tell anyone."

She pouts. "What? Why not?"

"Just promise me."

"Oh, alright. I promise."

He smiles slightly. "Thank you."

~~o~~

On the night of their wedding, they sit side by side in bed, Connor reading and Ellen knitting. Maria is just across the hall in the room she had chosen when she moved in with her mother. She's clearly not asleep yet, because, if what Ellen tells him is true, she snores very loudly. Connor doesn't hear any snoring.

"You know," Ellen says. "After Quincent, I never thought I would marry again. But here I am."

"I know that feeling," Connor replies, thinking back to his wife and children.

"I also didn't think Prudence would be so incredibly excited about us," Ellen laughs, making Connor smile. She sets her knitting needles and half-made scarf on the floor beside the bed, pulling the covers up to her neck and rolling to her side, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight." He sets his own book down and blows out the candle beside the bed.

~~o~~

Connor doesn't care, anymore, about how many years it's been since his old wife left him. He's over her, though his heart does still ache for his children. It's been ten years since he's married Ellen. He continued being an Assassin for quite some time, but eventually retired, passing on the title of Mentor to another Assassin he trusted.

He's forty now. So many years have passed. Walking around the homestead, he sees things that bring back good and bad memories. Every time he passes the stables, he remembers the nights he had spent there, the night he beat up intruders for Achilles. The spot where he first found Myriam. The exact place where Myriam and Norris announced that they were engaged. Achilles' grave. The painting on the wall.

Sometimes he wants to cry. So much has happened. So much has changed. Today he had made the mistake of going to see his village again. Then on another day, he made the mistake of going to his father's grave. He physically hurts sometimes. He's never liked change. But his whole life is different. Much more different than what he had imagined it would be when he was fourteen.

Sometimes he talks to his father's grave. Sometimes he'll talk to Achilles' grave. Other times he'll sit in the middle of his deserted village and talk as if his mother could hear him. As if Kanen'tó:kon could hear him. Or his people who had left. But, no matter which one of those he talks to, he always apologizes. He doesn't know what he says "Sorry" to Achilles for, but he just does.

He apologizes to his mother for failing to protect his village. He apologizes to his father and his old friend for killing them. He regrets it. He regrets a lot of things.

When he returns home, Ellen says someone wants to talk to him. A thirteen year old boy, nervous and shy, hands Connor a letter. His eyes widen in disbelief.

His son.

~~o~~

They've all grown old. Connor is fifty now. Nobody around the homestead has passed away yet, even though many of them are much older than Connor. He's thankful for it, of course. But it still makes him sad.

Where have the years gone? It feels as though he has gone from twenty-eight to an old man in only seconds. His friends have all changed. Maria is married now, and Connor's eldest son still can only visit for a few days at a time, while his other son rarely ever does. Myriam and Norris' daughter is an adult, and so is Hunter. Most everyone is retired now, though their children have picked up the careers and are now working.

Connor sits outside, watching Maria teach her eight year old son how to do flips (probably not the best idea). Ellen sits next to him, sewing the rips in a pillow. Everyone is out and about, and the homestead is lively and full of cheer. Children shriek with laughter, while adults work, laughing and having happy conversations.

Aveline is here right now, giving Maria's son tips on how to perfect his backflips and applauding him whenever he succeeds. Connor's own sons sit nearby, watching and grinning. Stephane and Dobby are leading the other (willing) Assassins on a march around the homestead, cheerfully singing songs.

Connor can't keep the smile off his face. He has many regrets and misses many people, but right now he's _happy._ Incredibly, undeniably happy. Life is bittersweet, but he knows he's going to live out the rest of his life in peace and happiness.


End file.
